The Row
by Streets of Fire
Summary: Oneshot. In his seventeen years at the Burrow, Bill had never heard anyone yell back at his mum. Well, until now. Fluff about early years in the Weasley house.


A/N Aaaahh… Another fic that floated out of my hands as I was writing it. Gotta love 'em. Oh, and this is another labor of love 'cause my fingers HURT from practicing guitar. If you do the math… er… Bill is 17, Charlie is 15 (hollah!), Percy is 11, the twins are 9 , Ron is 7 and Ginny is 6. I know lots of people like all that type of information and continuity, I just hate seeing it in summaries.

Growing up Weasley, there was a few rules. One was that all explosions were under a 'Don't Ask, Don't Tell' Policy. The other was that one does not yell back at your mother. Brothers, sister, father (rarely), whatever. Never ever, ever at your mother. In seventeen years of Burrow life, Bill Weasley had never heard a raised voice directed towards his dear Mum.

And yet, here he was crouched in the prickly rose garden outside the kitchen with his brothers, listening to the dueling screams inside.

"I'm not sure what you're thinking, _young lady_." The first voice was loud and forceful, with an Irish accent that always grew thicker during yelling bouts.

"I think you do! I don't even like that stupid _PRAT _and now I have to go to her party AND wear this stupid dress!" This voice was shrill and young, but with the same forcefulness as the first one. Five of the six Weasley boys sitting under the window cringed.

"Is she _really_ yelling back?" squeaked Ron, looking to his oldest brother for the answer. How could a six year old have a set of…lungs like that. Bill shrugged and pulled a bur from his t-shirt sleeve. Why couldn't the peace have held out until had left for Hogwarts? After this year, he would be home free, with a job all lined up and hopefully a flat a respectable distance from the Burrow. He sighed and leaned against the wall of the house. Just two more days.

"Oi," one of the twin's whispered, "D'ya think we'd be able ta-"

"Don't even think 'bout it," Charlie said, jumping off the rope ladder slung through the window two stories up. "You're not a girl. Did I miss anythin' good?" He pulled a bag of jelly beans from his jeans pocket and tossed it to Ron.

"Smooshy," the little boy scowled as he shook a handful of beans into his hand, picking out all the nasty flavored ones before shoving them all into his mouth at once.

"Nuh, yer doing it wrong, Wonny," Fred teased, pouring the bag directly into his mouth before passing the bag to his twin.

"This way you get all th' flavors at once," George said following suit, "An' ya get it all germy for the next guy."

"Your both good people," Percy sniffed sarcastically, waving away bag and passing it over to Charlie, who pocketed the bag after divy-ing out Bill's share into his brother's.

"Shhh." Sounds of fighting wafted again through the open window. There was the clanging of dishes from the inside.

"Ginevra Weasley, this is the _END_ of this **CONVERSATION**."

"Mum. Its not. BLOODY. FAIR."

"Watch your mouth young lady. Now go outside."

"But-"

"Outside!" The screen door slammed and all six boys drew themselves tightly against the wall, lest they be seen and targeted. As a blur of red and purple sped by, they all let out a collective sigh.

"Someone should go get her," Bill said thoughtfully. Slowly, the other boys lifted their fingers to their respective noses.

"Not it!"

"Bwah," Bill sputtered as he watched his brothers scurry up the rope ladder. He looked up to see Charlie leaning his head out the window. The red-head saluted and tossed the bag of jelly beans down to his brother.

"G'luck, mate."

What a way to spend his last days of summer, trumping through the untamed wilderness of his back yard looking for his wayward younger sister. He pushed away a gnarled tree branch and kicked around the underbrush. Its not that he was looking to kick his sister or that he expected to find her crouched under a pile of twigs and leaves, but stepping on a gnome is the most unpleasant experience on earth.

"Oi! Gin!" he called. No answer. "Ginny!". Nothing again. "Ginev-" A crab apple whizzed through the air towards Bill's head. He caught the apple in one hand and then searched the tree line for the little girl.

"Ginny! Where the bloody hell are you!"

"Don't swear at me! I'll swear right bloody back!" Another apple whizzed passed him, this one nicking a gnome in the back of its gnarled little head as it scurried through the under brush.

"Good aim!"

"Hmph."

"You've got chutzpah, Gin-Gin."

"What kootz pa?" The tiny voice was coming from somewhere up his head.

"Er, never mind. It means that you're right brave to yell at mum like that." Bill followed the sound of falling apples and the occasional 'humph'. Gazing upward, he saw a pair of freckled and Band-Aided legs in a crab apple tree. Bill leaned against an adjacent tree and grinned at the tiny head that was now poking out amongst the branches and leaves.

"Come down, ya?"

"No way, Bill. I'm gonna stay up here all night if I have to." Bill sighed and reached into his pocket, producing the bag of jelly beans.

"Well, yer gonna get hungry. Care for some Bertie Botts'?" Without waiting for the answer, he chucked the closed bag up to his little sister. There was a mumbled 'Thank you' from behind thick the foliage.

"What was that row about, anyway?"

" Mum wants me to go to this stupid party for some stupid girl in this stupid bloody dress-and.. and…and-" The girl sounded more and more worked up and by the end of her tirade, loud sobs could be heard from the tree. _Geez, she's only six years old and she's already this moody_ , Bill sighed to himself.

" Oh come on Gin," he chanced, "Can't be that bad, can it?" There was silence for a moment, and then a short rustling before something some thing was thrown from the tree.

Bill watched the items descent until it landed gently at his feet. It _was_ truly horrendous. He picked up the dress and held it up. The garment was a lilac-y purple and it looked very old and worn with patches of like colored (though not patterned) dish cloths and cloth scraps. But, the lace on the bottom was brand new, white with newly added twigs an burs clinging to the delicate hem. Bill couldn't help put laugh. It was his old play jumper that had obviously been reworked by his mum. He had hated this bloody thing.

"Alright, Gins," he sighed, "Maybe it is that bad." Bill looked up at the little girl, now only in her under shirt and the boyish under shorts she had adopted, rather than the 'big girl under-things' offered after she had turned six. She was taking big, uneven breaths, punctuated by the occasional sob or eye wipe. There was silence for a little longer.

"Gin-gin," Bill soothed, "Are you gonna come down now?" There was a pause as Ginny wiped her eyes on her freckled arm. She looked around, somewhat befuddled.

"I don't think sniff I know sob how." Bill laughed and held up his arms. "Jump." The girl's face screwed up in fear. " If you jump I'll teach you a bit of Quidditch." There was more silence and few more sniffles. "But F-fred an' G-g-eorge said-" "When have you ever paid attention to those gits before? Don't be scared. Jump and I'll catch you…Plus you can't be afraid of heights if your gonna be the big hero on the field." Bill grinned as tiny figure leapt from the tree and into his out stretched arms. "I'm a LADY, Bill," she laughed, punching him on the shoulder, " I'd be a hero_ine_. God, your dumb." 

"Only sometimes."

A/N Ah, that sort of ended up like that scene in Fried Green Tomatoes when Buddy gets Idgie to come out of the tree … I love that book/movie. And this might be the longest fic I've ever written, i.e about 3ish pages. Click the review button. Its good for the karma. And the clicker finger. The more you review, the stronger your finger becomes. Its like those birds that live in hippos' mouths. Ya know?


End file.
